Home
by louicorn
Summary: Home is where the heart is. They grow up with each other, come home to each other, through ups and downs and goods and bads. One-shot.


**Author's Note:** The story unfolds throughout Brittany and Santana's relationship. So each scene is set at a different time, as the two of them get older. Enjoy! :)

* * *

><p>"Honey, I'm home!"<p>

Santana scurried over to Brittany; a toothy grin pushed the apples of her cheeks up against her eyes into plump, round balls. "How was work?" she asked. She took Brittany's briefcase from her hands and set it on a small chair against the wall.

"Um…" Brittany bit at her index finger and twisted against the carpet on her heels. "It was okay."

"Okay?" Santana took Brittany's wrist in her clammy hand and tugged Brittany to her desk, where an assortment of snacks lay. "What did you do at work?"

Santana waited for a response as Brittany eyed the Goldfish crackers. "You want a snack? I can't make you a sandwich, but I have Goldfish crackers."

Brittany nodded, sticking her hand into the bag that Santana had just opened for her, after much effort. She dipped her fingers into the crackers and scooped out as much as she could. Crumbs stuck to the skin all over the backs of her hands.

"So what did you do at work?" Santana asked again.

Brittany finished chewing on the cracker and swallowed. "Just work things."

"Britts! That's such a bad answer."

"Well, I don't know," Brittany said. She slumped into the chair at Santana's desk and reached for another handful of Goldfish. "Why do I have to be the husband every time?"

"Because…because it's just better that way." Santana crossed her arms over her chest; whatever she said was always right.

"Sometimes, I want to be the wife, Santana," Brittany told her. She reached for the Frosted Flakes, but Santana slapped her hand away. "Hey!" Brittany said, pouting at Santana.

"Cereal is for _breakfast_, Brittany." Santana repositioned the box of cereal, even though Brittany hadn't even moved it.

"Then why did you put it here?" Brittany asked.

Santana let out an exasperated breath. "Because I needed to make it look like a kitchen."

"Oh. Well, I still want to be the wife."

"No, you can't, Britt."

"Why not?" Brittany hopped off the chair to hover over Santana with her three extra inches.

"Because I say so!"

"Why do we always have to listen to you, Santana?"

"Because I'm always right!"

Brittany turned away from Santana and glared up at the ceiling. "Then I don't want to play house anymore."

"Fine, I don't want to play with you anyway."

Brittany twisted her neck just the slightest bit to catch a glimpse of Santana's hard-set features. "Fine," Brittany said. She just wanted to be the wife. She didn't want to stop playing with Santana.

* * *

><p>"Britt-Britt? You home?" Santana walked into the living room. The sofas were all empty, but the television was on. "Britt?"<p>

As she turned to leave the room, Brittany popped into sight. "Hey, Santana!" Her breath came in quick pants, and her cheeks were flushed. She struggled with the chubby toddler in her arms.

A smile flashed quickly across Santana's face. Despite the physical struggle, Brittany looked natural cradling a baby. "You okay there, Britt?"

"I'm great!"

Santana laughed, brisk and feather light. She peered down at Chelsea and wiggled her finger into Chelsea's tiny hand. "How are you doing, Chels?"

Chelsea's mouth opened into a large smile as her fingers clenched around Santana's finger. Santana bent her back and inched her face closer to the baby. "Look at your cute baby blues. Just like your sister's, am I right?"

Chelsea squeaked, and Santana grinned as she pulled away. Then she noticed that look Brittany was giving her, her lips curled up at one end and eyes crinkled at the corners. "What?" Santana asked.

"Nothing."

Santana kept her eyes on Brittany for another second. Then she said, "Whatever," and dropped her body onto the couch.

Brittany rocked Chelsea back and forth in her arms for another twenty minutes until she drifted off. Santana was watching the television the entire time. She peeked at Brittany once or twice, but Brittany didn't seem to notice. After Brittany placed Chelsea into her crib, handling her like a soap bubble ready to pop, she sat next to Santana on the couch and, without much thought, pulled Santana's feet onto her lap.

"How was your day?" she asked.

Santana tossed the remote aside and looked at Brittany. "Okay."

"Oh."

"How was yours?"

"Busy." Brittany glanced at the crib. "As you can probably guess."

"Yeah." Santana snorted, as if Chelsea didn't just melt her heart half an hour ago.

"What do you wanna do while Chelsea's asleep?"

"I don't know. Do you need help with your Spanish homework or something?" Santana usually helped Brittany with her homework every time she came over.

"Not really."

Santana tilted her head. "Really?"

"I mean, I just don't feel like doing that now."

"Oh." Santana squirmed as Brittany's hands slithered higher and higher up her calves. "What do you want to do then?"

Brittany sighed. "Guess." Her hands were just past Santana's knees.

"Uhh…" Santana cleared her throat. She pulled her knees up against her chest and rubbed her hands over her shins, as if warming herself. Or smoothing away her goose bumps. "When are your parents coming home, Britt?"

Brittany rested her head against the back of the couch. Her eyes followed the movement of Santana's hands. "Not until dinner."

"Oh." It was late in the afternoon. The sun had turned a passionate bright orange; the air was heavy with the heat. "We still have a couple of hours then."

"Yeah." Brittany's arm slithered across the cushions to Santana's feet, where she tickled her with her fingernails.

"Britt!" Santana jerked her foot up, but Brittany snatched her ankle with her nimble hands and tugged. Santana's whole body slipped under her. In an instant, Brittany hovered over her with her palms flat on the couch on either side of Santana's head.

Brittany grinned as she dipped her head lower and sucked on Santana's lips. Santana kissed back and kissed back until Brittany slid her mouth down to Santana's jawline. Santana gasped. She stretched her neck out, tightening her veins that were already filled to the brink with throbbing, hot blood. She squeezed her eyes shut, and her soul floated in the darkness. Her senses quivered with the intensity streaming through her, but she somehow also lost awareness of her limbs and her heavy eyelids and her parted lips.

Then Brittany's hand lay on her breast, and the feeling of her flesh came rushing back to Santana again. The flow of her blood slowed, almost indiscernible like the air swirling through her lungs. Her eyes opened. She was in Brittany's living room.

"Wait, Britt, stop."

Brittany lifted her head to look at Santana. Her breaths were quick and loud. "What's wrong?"

"Just…" Santana avoided Brittany's eyes. She caught a glimpse of the crib instead. "Your sister's trying to sleep."

"She's not going to wake up," Brittany said.

"Still." Santana pushed herself back into a sitting position and straightened out her hair.

Brittany kept looking at her with those sad eyes. They made her so angry. Not because Brittany was sad. If Brittany were ever sad, Santana would scoop her up into her arms and hug her until every bit of sad was gone. But Santana was angry because Brittany's eyes were dull and thoughtful and sad for _Santana_. Santana could tell. And she was so angry.

"Stop looking at me like that," Santana said.

"Like what?"

"You know what." Santana wasn't about to fall into another one of Brittany's traps—to be tricked into talking about her damn feelings.

"Santana, I—"

"I don't want to talk about it." Santana stood up and walked over to Chelsea. She hardened her features as she watched Chelsea sleep, even breaths rising with her chest. Then she stepped out of the living room and left Brittany on the couch alone.

* * *

><p>"Babe?"<p>

Santana smiled as Brittany walked into the kitchen. Brittany wasn't wearing any makeup and was dressed down in a white tank top and grey sweatpants. The tip of her nose was pink, and her blonde eyelashes were almost unnoticeable. But still. Still the prettiest girl in the world. "Hey, baby." Santana reached for Brittany's hand and rubbed at the soft skin with her thumb.

"Hi." Brittany squeezed Santana's hand back as she pulled out a chair next to Santana at the dining table. "How are my favorite boys doing?" she asked the two children across from them.

"Ugh, these monsters." Santana shook her head. "They've been harassing me all afternoon."

"No, we haven't!" Tim said. He took another huge bite of mac and cheese. "Wes and I have been super good. Right, Wes?"

Wes nodded, clearly less invested in the topic than his brother.

"How about you, Brittany?" Tim asked. He smiled big at her, and Brittany giggled at the sight of his tiny teeth.

"I'm great, Tim," she said. "Thanks for asking."

"What took you so long to get here?"

"I had to finish helping my mom with the laundry. Sorry, Timmy."

"Oh, okay. I missed you." Tim took a sip from his juice box. "Did you miss me?"

"Of course I missed you, munchkin."

Tim grinned, and he swirled his spoon around in his food for no reason at all. "Wanna play cars later?"

Brittany smiled. "Sure."

"Finish your food first, Tim," Santana snapped.

Tim stuck his tongue out at Santana and began eating again, but not before smiling once more at Brittany.

When the boys were done with their food, Brittany slapped their butts and sent them running into the living room to start playing with the cars. Santana carried the dirty bowls and spoons to the sink and began to rinse them. Brittany turned to Santana once the boys had scrambled over to their toys. She took brisk steps toward Santana and wrapped her arms around Santana's small, lithe body. It made her feel so big and so strong sometimes when she tucked Santana into her body like that. She liked it.

Santana smiled at her dishes but kept quiet. She squirmed when Brittany dug her chin into the groove of her shoulder.

"Hi," Brittany said. The word was short and so soft that it almost sounded like a breath.

Santana placed a bowl onto the drying rack. "You said 'hi' already."

"Yeah, but I wanted to say it again."

Santana snorted. "Yeah?"

"Uh huh." Brittany trailed her lips along the curve of Santana's ear. "This one's for your ears only."

Santana dried her hands with a paper towel and craned her neck back. She met Brittany's lips and kissed her.

Then Tim stumbled into the room. "What are you two doing?"

Brittany turned around. "Well, aren't you a nosey boy, Timmy?" Brittany asked.

Tim grinned; Brittany's playful eyes had that effect on people.

"Are you coming to play cars or not, Britty?" he asked.

"Of course I am. Just give me a second, okay?"

He thought about it. "Okay." Then he hopped back into the living room.

Without much thought, Brittany trailed behind him, but she stopped when she couldn't feel Santana behind her. "San?" She spun around. Santana was leaning against the kitchen counter with her arms crossed. "You coming?"

"You go ahead."

Brittany tilted her head and smiled. "You're not jealous of a five-year-old boy, are you?"

"No."

"Oh, Santana." She walked up to Santana and held her waist. She looked at Santana's narrowed eyes and her pouting lips, and she laughed. "This is what babysitters do," she said. "We take care of the kids."

"Tim is, like, in love with you or something."

Brittany didn't even bother to comment. She just lowered her lips and kissed Santana. "Too bad I'm in love with someone else."

* * *

><p>"Hello? Where are you, Mrs. Lopez?"<p>

Brittany swung into the room. She smiled, small, bashful. "Mrs. Lopez, huh?"

Santana hung her coat up and grinned. "You like it?"

"Well, I'm not married to you just yet…"

"But you may as well be," Santana murmured. She linked their hands and pulled Brittany closer to her. Then she let Brittany's lips warm her cold ones, over and over again.

"Even when I _am_ married to you," Brittany said, "I might want to keep my last name."

"Would you?" Santana looked at her seriously now.

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Okay." Santana ran her hands up and down Brittany's arms. "As long as you'll marry me."

"Of course I'll marry you." Brittany lifted her left hand and wiggled her ring finger. "I promised."

"You are…the light of my life, Ms. _Pierce_."

Brittany pursed her lips. "Pierce-Lopez," she said after a moment.

"Pierce-Lopez?" Santana's eyes wavered with anticipation.

Brittany nodded.

"Perfect." Santana trailed her fingers up to Brittany's chin and held it. "Now everyone will know you're mine."

Brittany sighed. Santana could be so possessive sometimes. Brittany resisted it, but she wanted it even more. She'd never seen Santana be like that with anything else, and knowing that she held such a place in Santana's heart made her insides flutter and sway. "Am I yours?" she asked quietly.

"Mine." Santana kissed her once. "Only mine."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

And, in that dark doorway, they sighed and gasped and trembled into each other's mouths. Santana pressed Brittany up a wall and slipped a hand into her shirt. "The things you do to me," she mumbled into Brittany's neck.

"Wait, stop, San." Brittany pushed Santana away and caught her breath.

"What's wrong?"

"Mike and Tina's kids are here."

"What? Why?"

"It's their tenth anniversary tonight."

"_Tenth_?" Santana fixed her hair in the mirror next to the door and frowned. "And that's why you don't get married straight out of high school."

"What's wrong with that?" Brittany asked.

"I mean, look at their kids! In elementary school already, Jesus."

"We're not that young, Santana."

"I'm still in my 20s, Britt. I'm young."

"Santana."

"What?"

"You have two years left of your 20s."

"So?"

Brittany chuckled. "You have to settle down eventually, babe." She kissed Santana's temple.

"I _am_ settling down. We're getting married."

"Okay, whatever you say, San." Brittany started walking into the living room, with Santana right behind her.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I don't know." She knew. "Kids maybe?"

"_Kids_?" Santana shuddered. "You know I'm not a kid person."

"I know, but—"

"Wait, do _you_ want kids?"

"Santana, I don't think we should be having this conversation right now."

"But do you?"

"Well, eventually, yes." Brittany watched for Santana's reaction. She was used to Santana's various panics, having witnessed dozens of them over their years together: the gay panic, the college panic, the commitment panic, and, now, maybe the kids panic.

"Okay." Santana breathed. "Okay." She was handling this surprisingly well. "Eventually, right? Eventually could be ten years, twenty years from now. Okay."

"Are you sure you're okay, Santana?"

Santana closed her eyes. She nodded slowly, as if really thinking it through. "I'm sure."

"Okay."

Santana pecked Brittany on the lips once more. When she entered the living room and spotted the kids watching one of her (secretly) favorite episodes of _SpongeBob SquarePants_, she kneeled next to the twins on the carpet and gave them a big hug.

"Aunty Santana!"

"Missed me?" she asked.

Mike Jr. nodded.

"How much?"

"_This_ much," Mike Jr. said. He stretched his arms as far as they would go.

"Well, I must have missed you more, then," Santana said. "Because I missed you _this_ much." She held her much longer spread arms up to Mike Jr.'s.

"That's not fair," Mike Jr. said. "You just have longer arms."

"Or maybe I just miss you more." Santana jutted her hip to the side, as if the action would prove her point.

Brittany laughed and swept in. "Alright, now, stop arguing, you two." She didn't understand how Santana could take children so seriously. But, then again, Santana had never looked down on anyone in her life, no matter his or her gender, age, or mental capacity. She treated everyone as an equal, and Brittany loved her for it.

"We weren't arguing," Santana said. "Just having a civil conversation, am I right, Mikey?"

Mike Jr. scratched his head. "I don't know what that means."

"Oh, Mike." Brittany rubbed his hair and dragged Santana away from the kids before she confused them even more.

Brittany and Santana cuddled on the couch. Throughout the episode, Santana watched Brittany out of the corner of her eye. Brittany's snort might just be the most heavenly sound to her ears. She laughed when Brittany laughed, and Brittany laughed when the kids laughed, and the kids laughed when SpongeBob laughed. All in all, it was quite a funny evening.

* * *

><p>"Honey, I'm home!"<p>

Brittany tripped over her fluffy elf slippers to rush up to Santana. She got there right on time. She took Santana's coat in her hands just as Santana shrugged it off her shoulders. "How was work?"

"Not bad."

"Oh."

Once Brittany had finished hanging the coat and turned around, Santana was right in front of her. "Just missed you," Santana said. She pulled Brittany's hips up to her own and kissed her.

"I missed you, too," Brittany said.

"Is that right?"

"Uh huh." Brittany kissed Santana again. "What did you do at work?"

"Lawyer-y things." This time, she kissed Brittany.

"What kind of lawyer-y things?"

"Lawyer-y things that would bore you." Santana began kneading Brittany's waist with her hands.

Brittany grinned. Kissed Santana again.

"Although, I did get to bitch a few people out today." Another kiss. "That was awesome."

"Were you being super mean?"

"Well, I wasn't _nice_, but I wasn't super mean."

"Good, because super mean Santana is not a good Santana."

Santana chuckled. "Don't you like yourself a bad Santana, though?"

"Jesus, Ma!"

Santana sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. "What now, Tommy?"

"It's _Tom_, not Tommy!"

Brittany frowned. "But you've always been Tommy, Tommy."

"_Mom_."

"What?" Brittany looked at Santana and shrugged.

"Where's your sister, Tommy?" Santana asked.

Tommy slumped his shoulders in defeat. "In the kitchen."

"Want a snack, San?"

Santana nodded. "Please."

Brittany grabbed Santana's hand and led her into the kitchen, where Alice was texting on her phone. "Hey, Mama, Mom."

"Hey, Alice." Santana smiled. "How was school?"

"Boring."

"Your brother's freaking out right now."

Alice rolled her eyes. "He always is. What a child."

Santana laughed. She saw so much of herself in Alice.

"Hey, Santana. Is a sandwich good?" Brittany asked.

Santana sat down in the stool next to Alice. "A sandwich is perfect."

As Brittany shuffled around the kitchen, looking for all the ingredients, Santana peered over Alice's shoulder. "Who are you texting?"

"Johnny." Alice sighed.

"What's up with you and Johnny?"

"I don't even know. He's so stupid."

"You know what I say. All boys are stupid." Santana grinned as Brittany struggled with the jar of mayonnaise. "That's why," she whispered into Alice's ear, "I ended up with your mom over here."

Alice snorted. "Yeah, right."

Brittany came up to them and slammed the jar of mayonnaise in front of Santana. "Help me, San."

Santana opened it with one twist. Brittany looked annoyed but took the jar and continued with her sandwich.

Santana watched Brittany for a little while more as she drummed her fingers on the tabletop.

"You love Mom, right?" Alice whispered.

"More than anything."

"How do you know?"

"How do I know?"

"Uh huh."

"Well, it's a long story…"


End file.
